


Invisible Things

by Astra Altiora (astreanox)



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sora and Vanitas Are Siblings (Kingdom Hearts), Sora and Vanitas are not in good terms, Sora is the Antagonist, Vanitas needs a hug, Ventus is a Ray of Sunshine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astreanox/pseuds/Astra%20Altiora
Summary: Working in the fast food industry isn’t glorious. Every day is a new suffering, be it by the register, the drive-thru or working the fryers. Add a horrendous graveyard shift, at the worse side of the city, and that’s Ventus’s life.Thank the Universe for Vanitas, right?
Relationships: Roxas/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Roxas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Sora & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	Invisible Things

**Author's Note:**

> It's a mismatch of Disney and McDonald's, I didn't feel comfortable using McDonald's in my work because lmao sketchy things are about to go down with the clown. This fic would mostly follow two characters, Roxas and Ventus. Their POVs would switch every now and then, I’d put headers for which character is which.
> 
> This fic would mostly be VanVen, I promise... we just need to get there. :)

**PROLOGUE**

**ROXAS**

Working for the Mouse in Pants is not something Roxas was proud of. The old Mouse had a successful food chain, theme park and cartoons dating from the 30’s, some people would think that being allowed to work in one of their retail chains would have some form of glamorous rewards because they did boast the catch phrase: ‘ _ the happiest place on earth’ _ . It was the expected promise built upon a throne of lies. Yet, only the chosen ones knew about it, only the few, the patient and absolutely desperate to earn some cash knew about the darkness Mickey Ds were made of.

One such person is a newly emancipated College freshman. Fresh from the life of being provided for, completely unsuspecting of the horrors of the fast food industry. Once upon a time they stood on the other side of the counter and have now gone into a nightmare they have very little chance to wake from: Being on the other side. Pushing buttons, computing change, announcing codenames and service with a damn smile. 

Day in, day out. Until the lowly Freshman trudged his way to his Junior year. He's no longer the hopeful innocent years ago, he's turned into a blob of apathy, with tired eyes and a bloodstream that has been fully replaced by caffeine. His hopes and childhood dreams of working for the Big Mouse had shattered in the first three days he worked at Mickey Ds, now all that fills him is his need to pay his student loans. 

Roxas takes a deep breath. He's staring at the back entrance of Mickey Ds, the ominous, unclean and dilapidated door marked with 'EMPLOYEES ONLY'. He wasn't sure what exactly the sign was made for, but he's guessing it's because only employees can have their childhood dreams robbed and broken. He groans one last time before turning the rusted knob, entering the greasy workplace, and heading straight to the back room to time-in and change into his uniform and cap. 

_ Ugh _ . The uniform used to be fit on him, the sleeves hugging his biceps, the front buttons resting nicely on his chest. A year later and the overwashed and overused shirt had better days. It hung over him like it was three sizes bigger. At least the cap still fits, it's golden arches still printed against the black background. 

His shift starts with meeting the other chosen ones in the back room. The same dread and soulless expression on their faces, he greets them with a barely visible smile and a grunt. Next, he'd check his daily rotation assignment, which station or part of the damned store he'd be working for the day and how long in each. Ventus prayed that he'd just get the easy job of kitchen duty. 

_ Front. Register 3.  _

Why on the Gods’ good mercy did he even think he’s going to get away with an easy job? Nothing was easy since he’s been rotated to the 33rd’s across 17th in Midgar, the branch of Mickey Ds at a place called ‘Edge’. There was nothing easy with being in Edge, it was the  _ bad _ side of town. It didn’t even exist prior a couple of years ago, but organized underground crime had a boom since then. Roxas forgot who or which group it was exactly that uprooted a side of Midgar, it’s not the kind of information you’d find in any online search engine. It just went around by word of mouth and denizen chatter. It wasn’t long before the people of Midgar started referring to the boundary between it and Cleigne as ‘Edge’, a place completely free and independent of police authorities, government control and regulation. 

It was Hell on Earth. 

He used to work closer to his college campus, about a 15 minute walk from his dorm. The work wasn’t glamorous but the pay was enough to get him by, at least he could get home and dive right into his twin bed in 15 minutes after his shift ended. He wasn’t an excellent employee, nor was he abysmal like others who missed their shifts without any consideration for others. If he had wanted to stay put in his original branch right inside the Scala State University, he could have. 

But then, that would have meant… he’d be away from Ventus. 

Was it weird to say that he found his doppelgänger living his life better than he did? Ventus was and wasn’t like him. They had almost identical features to the passing eye, blonde and blue-eyed, easily their most striking features. Though to Roxas, used to seeing his own reflection from mirrors and glassy objects, Ventus was nothing like him; he was smiley, bright and extremely optimistic. It showed in his face, the smoothness of his smile, the perpetual pinkish hue on his cheeks, and most of all the small wisps of green emerald in his blue eyes. Ventus has traits that Roxas gave up on acquiring after reaching a certain age when he discerned that life is unfair and would never be fair. He wonders, at eighteen years of age, had Ventus not seen the world as clear as he did? 

“Hello! Welcome to Mickey Ds, may I take your order?” Ventus says with his genuine greeting, the spiel pretty much rolling off his tongue without any hint of sarcasm. 

Roxas walks to the counter next to him, his cap and uniform in place. Ventus glances at him, grinning happily at his arrival before giving his full attention back to the customer before him. Roxas didn’t even get a smile in, before a customer's impatiently tapping his foot on the flooring, a few more customers enter the store and Roxas has his own queue of waiting customers before he could even fully open his register. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” He says once he’s settled. 

The impatient girl before him rolls her eyes. “About time. What’s the meal with the least calorie?”

“Excuse me?” Roxas couldn’t hide his inner voice, the question was too stupid to comprehend and he’s not really as accommodating as the one in Register 2 for these kinds of questions. 

“Like didn’t you hear me? Are you stupid or something? … ugh, like don’t you get it? I’m on a diet. So like, give me something zero-calorie that’s tasty.” She repeats her ‘order’ and once again Roxas has to hold the urge to smack her deep, deep within the pits of his stomach. Oh, how he hated this job.

_ If you want something like that then don’t fucking come to a fast food store you dimwit!  _ If the girl continues to ask him for something vague and obviously cannot be found in their menu, he’s seriously going to serve her a glass of water. 

“Psst… Roxas…” He hears someone whisper from his right. Ventus mouthed to him ‘V-3’, a vegan option burger using tofu and some weird flavoring, a choice drink and a side salad. His identical blue eyes disappeared to a satisfied smile, when Roxas acknowledged his idea. 

He relays the suggested order and punches in the amount required. The annoying girl hands him her money and he quickly gives her the change. He goes to where the packaged food has been waiting, meeting Ven for a brief moment. He was humming, quite happily as he put the designated orders on the tray. Roxas wondered if Ven had ever felt anything aside from sheer joy in what he does. 

“Good mood?” He quips, reaching for the order of that obnoxious customer.

Ven scratches his head and chuckles. “What made you say that?” 

“The singing.” Roxas says before taking his tray back to his counter, giving the girl his scripted ‘thank yous’ and ringing up another order. 

His shift would mostly be filled with a bunch of airheads too lazy to make dinner themselves after a day of work or school. The first half of his and Ventus's shift, at least. The next half, the ones that range from three in the morning to sunrise, that half is where anything goes. It’s not just. The customers and the weird and wild shit that they bring or order, it’s literally,  _ anything under the fucking moon can happen.  _

The exaggeration was expected. Edge had a reputation and not so long ago the rumors that retail stores, malls and cafes don't last for two months, even with cheap rent. Roxas called it bullshit. His words were, in verbatim, 'that's a fuck ton of bullshit you're saying, Axel'. He didn't fear it, rumors can get wild; the mutated stories of his own sexual conquests is proof of that. He didn't care for any of the 'beware ye who enter' warnings and whispers, he's seen the ugly side of the world. How much worse can it get? 

Roxas says 'bring it, fucker', fists raised and ready to pummel the shit out of anyone. A second into Axel's wiggling brow and smug smirk and he knows 'to whom' the warning was really for:  _ Ventus _ . 

His, otherwise known as ‘nice Roxas’, honorary ‘little brother’. He was too kind for his own good, too naive and far too reckless to have any sense of self-preservation. Ventus’s mind works like a straight line and it always involves helping others out, at the expense of himself. Roxas didn’t like it, he’s made it verbally clear to Ven that he should be more careful with decisions he makes for other people; but Ven would just laugh at him with a smile, waving him off with his words: ‘ _ someone has to do it, why not me?’  _

It was no wonder that Ven’s hand was the first that shot up in the air when Mickey D’s management was asking for temporary assistance to the new branch they’re setting up at Edge. It was a trap set for a baby; a ridiculously idiotic, no sense of self-preservation, whatsoever baby. Roxas’s baby _ , Ventus.  _ He was the only that adamantly raised his hands, despite hearing the placement; no one even wanted to look at Manager Donald’s eyes at the sound of it. Roxas wanted to shoot his hand up and yank Ven’s raised arm down, but it’s not going to work. The Devilspawn already saw its prey and it’s set putting him to the mousetrap it laid at 33rd and 17th in Midgar. 

So that’s how he wound up across two cities for work.  _ Ugh.  _

It was fucking frustrating, getting an additional hour of commute, slumming it up with the drunks and addicts riding the high, the weird solicitor venders that come in past midnight. Roxas could go on and on about the things he hated about Edge. Though nothing would change, he’s still standing before Register 3, name plate intact and cap snug over his head. He does a big sigh and runs a hand down his face, completely done with his life. 

“Roxas?” He hears a lighter sounding version of his own voice, filled with mirth. “Roxas, hey… you okay?”

The sweet and sultry scent of freshly brewed caffeine wafts across his nose. His tired eyes barely open as it traces the transparent path of coffee right in Ven’s hands. He feels the corners of his mouth tug upwards, ever so slightly, before he’s lifting his head up to Ven’s worried eyes. 

“No, I’m not.” He groans and takes Ven’s cup without asking. “What do you think?” He takes a gulp from the cup, ignoring the way Ven’s face contorts with frustration. 

“Give that back! That’s mine! Get your own! Roxas!!” He says with a childish yelp, his brows furrowing together in the middle. He looked like an angry kitten. He has his uniform on, his cap stuck in its standard position. He and Roxas should look like mirror images, except Ven’s got a perpetual shine to him that Roxas could only blink at. 

And, of course, it’s not like Ventus can out-smug Roxas. 

“Coffee isn’t good for growing kids.” Roxas pats his head, ignoring Roxas’s attempted swipes directed. to the cup on his hand. Someone buzzing with energy like Ven didn’t need something like coffee to keep him going. 

“Oh, here we go. You’re taller than me by an inch!  _ An INCH! _ ” Ven stomps his foot. 

Roxas raised his hand, high up and above his head, smirking happily at how Ven’s furrowed brows sent him the cutest death glare he’d seen in his life. It was almost ‘Void Hour’, and it’s why there’s no more queues or customers coming in. There was no one to see them goofing during their shift, and definitely no one to see him… if he does something  _ else _ . 

Like a child, Ven rushes up to Roxas, the small difference in their height showing as he tiptoes, reaching up to Roxas’s outstretched hand. Roxas tips his toes too, grinning as Ven unconsciously threw his arms over him. Ven steps on his shoe and snatches the cup right out Roxas's suddenly frozen stance. Ven slides down, their chest stuck together, their breathing a faded whisper from the yelps a second ago. 

“I… Uhm—“Before Ven could finish his thoughts and pull away, Roxas slips his arm around his waist and locks him in place. He leans closer, touching Ven’s nose with his, as he stares at the empty cup in Ven’s hand. “—Roxas, stop teasing me!” 

“Nah, I’m bored and you’re fun to tease.” He replies with a smug tone, lowering his other hand and joining it around Ven’s waist. Ven jolts forward, making his arms slide up his chest and hanging over his shoulders in absent consciousness. 

“And, if we’re being honest. You started it.”

Ven turns bright pink, the incredulous statement made him regain his footing. He pushed Roxas away, grumbling as he made himself a cup of instant coffee. He waits out the end of ‘dead hour’, the moments where no customers come in, grabbing a rag and wiping away at the counters of the store. He does it all with a pout on his lips and a tinge of pink on his face. His brows furrowed together, taking—every once in a while—short glances at him to nail him the idea that his little ‘prank’ was not well received. 

Would it be appropriate for Roxas to laugh, when Ven is obviously annoyed at him? Perhaps not, but it doesn’t stop him from grinning at his Register space. It was ‘dead hour’, the time of the shift that Roxas found joy in. No customers, no lines, no smell of food he’d consumed for more than four years, exclusively. Such was the life of a broke college student. There were worse days, at least a MickBurger would be considered a meal; he used to go for days on packets of ketchup he pocketed from the condiments island at the cafeteria. He’d gone a long way from that. The quiet moments, standing in the midst of the grease and smell of deep fried food and grilled burgers, where no one’s bossing him around; with Ventus, casually getting closer to him with all the angry wiping he did, is everything to him right now. 

“Ven?” He hums his name, almost coaxing for the warmth he had. Ven grunts and turns to him, his mesmerizing blue dotted with beautiful emerald, stares at him with a facade of annoyance. Roxas steps away from his position and walks over to Ven’s register, he takes a breath and slides his arms around Ven’s waist, locking his hands over the thinner and softer stomach. He places his chin on top of his shoulder, hugging him tighter. 

“Is something the matter?” Ven’s voice was kind, he didn't look at him, and kept his eyes closed, leaning into the hug. “You’re thinking about it again, huh? Your past.”

Roxas hums in agreement. It wasn’t his fault his past was all kinds of fucked up. His parents were there, they weren’t technically considered as a ‘broken’ family, but what the University’s application definition didn’t cover, is the state of dissonance in a home. It wa barely anything like a ‘home’, it was more of a ‘place’ than anything else. There was no warmth in that  _ place _ , there was only dread and fear. The stench of month old laundry, dried illegal substances scattered on the walls and floors, a collection of discarded bottles of alcohol from whiskey to beer. Then… There were the  _ people  _ that he lived with—the people that taught him that monsters never came from closets or under the bed, they came along through the hallways and doors, dressed in flesh, filled with blood. The harm they inflict is anything but imaginary. 

“Don’t chase it.” Ven whispers, placing a hand over the intertwined hands on his stomach. “Roxas, you’re okay. You’re far from them now, I got you.”

“Yeah. I got you, too.” He breathes out a sigh and inhales Ven’s fresh from the shower scent. “You’re always saving me from them. The nightmares.”

“They’re just bad dreams. All you need is a wake up call, that’s hardly saving you.” Ven chuckles, pushing at the arms that were tightly wound around him. “You’re giving me too much… cre… credit!”

He didn’t realize that he was holding onto him too tight. “Fuck. Sorry, Ven!”

Ven winced but he didn’t whine or complained, he even smiled through the barely breathable hold Roxas has on him. He loosens his grip and takes a deep breath, before walking away from him, heading for the back room of the store.

If Roxas wanted to be honest, he would have said that he  _ used  _ to think of Ven as a ‘little brother’.  _ He used to.  _ It’s been years since he’s thought of that, it’s been a long time since Ven resonated to him only as someone he treated as family. Ven so much more, granted he doesn’t know how his conflicting and overlapping feelings are, it would still be a lie to say that he only saw him as some helpless little kid he wanted to protect. Ven is in between, a hybrid of his mind’s making that only when he shut one side of his feelings out, can he carry on a decent conversation with him.

Although the conflict in his head had driven him to some awkward spots before, and made him walk away from Ven with less than logical reasons. It was a price to pay for only functioning with only half his heart on the table.

Footfalls follow him to the back, he turns back and sees Ven slightly shaded in pink. He seemed unsure about himself, or whatever else is going on within his thoughts. He walks closer, taking advantage of Roxas’s stillness. 

“It’s alright! Roxas!” He yanks at Roxas’s arm, pulling it around him, placing it back on his waist. He’s already gone deep red from probable embarrassment but he gulps down the breath stuck on his throat. “I… I don’t mind. If it helps you forget at the moment, I don’t mind.” 

_ Of course, you’d say that.  _

Roxas chuckles. He almost goaded himself into thinking that Ven might have felt something for him too, those flushed cheeks were deceiving. He was just being nice, being who he is, trying so hard to make the person in pain around him suffer less. It was a selfless trait, spurned his genuine concern over people. He was far too naive to stay with Roxas, but also far too pure to be away from Roxas too. 

He retracts his arms from him, choosing to pet his fluffy blonde hair instead. “I mind,” he says with a smug tone. “I don’t go giving free hugs to every shrimpy blonde I see.”

Ven frowns, his brows drawn together. 

Part of Roxas knew the words that Ven’s expression carried without hearing his voice. It was scanning him, testing his face for any breaks to the mask he wore. He shifted his moods too fast, shut off his feelings before they rose to a dangerous high. He couldn’t let his thoughts meander with the scent of dewy mornings and spring around him, the feel of Ventus’s lithe body pressed close to him. There was much too much Ventus around him for his emotions to stay sane, for the heat that pooled on his stomach to remain stagnant. 

“I’m taking my fifteen.” He spins Ven by the shoulders and pushes him softly back to the direction of the front of the store. “Go watch the front for me.”

“But…It’s still dead hour…!” Ven hesitates, his feet fighting the direction Roxas guided him towards. His weight didn’t prove to be a trouble for Roxas, he nearly lifted Ven by his elbows and planted him back at his place on the second register. He settled on his place with a worried look, a pout present over his lips as he watched Roxas take his cap off, exiting to the back room. 

Two years ago, when he started working for the Old Mouse, Roxas took his ‘Fifteen’ seriously. It was the only thing that he took seriously, the job, itself, not so much. He appeared, went on time, but all the rest he did the bare minimum to ‘not’ get fired. He used to take his breaks just outside the store, but having been transferred to Edge, changed how he spent his breaks. The rumor mill had churned out nasty stories about hanging around the Edge during Dead Hour, though no one could ever prove the truths to the tales, it was better to be careful than have missing organs the next day. 

He gathered his breath, still dressed in the black Mickey D’s uniform, he stepped out of the back door and braced himself for whatever the chill winds would bring. He’s silently hoping that his sudden decision for air won’t get him slaughtered. 

Edge was essentially the poor side of Midgar, supposed to host low-quality housing for people in the slums or the lower bracket of living. There was much societal hierarchy at work, the class system of the rich and powerful still at the forefront. For all the abuse Midgar’s tyrannical governor had done, it was no wonder he incited an uprising that successfully  _ liberated  _ a portion of the city from his control. Although, the consequences of  _ liberation  _ trickled down to the very society that existed in it. 

The lampposts were still brightly lit, the streets were relatively clean. There was a lack of life among the sidewalks, except for the brightly lit neon double arches of where he worked, and the 7-Eleven five blocks from it. It was the only other store that shone like a beacon of life in the otherwise abandoned city of Edge. 

Roxas walks away, taking a lasting glance at the employee entrance, he was going to buy himself and Ven some treats from the convenience store. It had healthier options, if only not drenched in cooking oil and battered with flour and egg, there were always some reheatable rice bows, bentos and even soup; and, because it’s Ventus, he’d be more than happy to shell out more than he would for himself to get the oblivious blonde something that resembles a full course meal on a budget. Heck, he’d even get him coffee! He smiles to himself, counting the money in his wallet, completely absorbed within his own thoughts to comprehend the blaring sounds of gunshots a couple of blocks away. 

Directly heading towards the double arched beacon. 

Straight to Ventus. 


End file.
